The Penn's Grove record., 1887-08-27

length got up and paced the room.
Suddenly turning to MI. Browne, he
said: Comparative stranger as you are
to me, | feel as IL l must tell you the
nature of the business which is calling
me to London so unexpectedly. The
blow has fallen so suddenly that to
speak of it would be an immense re-
lief"
The stranger was all sympathetic
attention in a moment.
"Mr. Browne" continued the Major,
excitedly, "thIs time yesterday | be-
lieved that poor girl up stairs to be the
mistress of a fairly large fortune. To-
day-lf the information l received this
m)rning Is correct-I know her to be
penniless. And that is not ali: the
greater part, If not the whole. of my
income is lost Also"
So sympathetic was Mr.. Browne that
he begged to know all the details.
These, however, the Major was unable
to furnish; in fact he could explain
nothing satisfactorily, SO great was the
state of excitement into which he had
worked himself.
"Hushl' he said, as he heard Maude
approaching. mot a word to her, |
wouldn't disturb her peace OF mind for
worlds, poor girl, until l am certain
how the matter stands"
Tie next day, about an hour afte-
her uncle had left for London, Maude
received the following pencilled note
from Mr.. Browne:
MY OWN DARLING: l am the most
unlucky dog that ever livedl l passed
a wretched night, and this morning ]
am too i'll to leave my bed. To be dis
abled to-day, when l was to have ar
ranged for the event which is to make
me the happiest man in England. /
have sent for the village ''bones," and
il he can but patch me up 1t may not
yet be too late. Send a book back by
bearer, to account for having received
a letter from your nearly frantic
JACK.
Poor Maudel The ~torturing sus-
pense of that dayi In the evening she
ventured to ask the landlady to inquire
how Mr.. Browne was, mo better,
was the alarming reply.
Maude passed a sleeples5 night In
the morning she received a second note
from her dear Jack, even more despair
ing in its tone than the former enc.
Fate is against us" he wrote; II feel
as if / shall never be able to call you
mine."
In the middle Of the day she again
sent to inquire after her lover; and was
oyerjoyed when she heard he was much
better, and was even thinking OF get
ting up, his recovery bidding fair to be
as sudden as his seizure.
That evening Major Henderson re-
turned. Hardly had he knocked at
the door. when Mr.. Browne emerged
from the opposite cottage.
"What news, slrpn asked the sympa-
thetic Mr.. Browne.
'tThe worst possible" replied the
Major. throwing himself into an easy
chair and covering his face with his
hands. THAT poor girl yonder is a
| beggar, and l have but a hundred a
year lett"
Maude looked from one to the other
in utter Dewilderment, md theA loss
ing over to her uncle, trying to comfort
hun and gain some explanation at the
same time.
81 fear this is a scene for estranger
to Witness" said Mt. Browne. "Sir.
you have my deepest sympathy, and |
am sure that at the present moment l
can show it in no better way than by
withdrawing"
Maude followed her lover to the
door. She was much distressed on her
uncle's account, but did not fully rea-
| lie her own loss Of fortune.
"Are you really better, dear Jackp"
she asked anxiously.
"Yes, thank you. Quite cured.
Good bye" and he was gone"
That her lovers leaye-taking was a
little abrupt did strike Maude; she was,
however, far too confused by the turn
| affairs had taken to attach much I'M
portance to the first circumstance.
When she returned to her uncle he
| seemed wonderfully better, and at sup
per he talked quite cheerfully Of their
future.
Maude passed another sleepless night.
| She did not SO much mind the terrible
loss she had sustained on her W ac-
count; but she was bitterly disappointed
| that she could not do all she had pro-
missed for her dear Jack. She deter
mined, however. to be the most loving
and economical wife possible. at all
events her uncle would not be able to
accuse Jack of being mercenary now,
and there was much comfort IN that
reflection. Perhaps after all they
would be able to have a proper we'd
ding. only of course 1t would have to
be a very quiet one. How much nicer
that would be than running away and
deceiving her uncle, who had always
been SO kind to her.
When she came down to breakfast
the next morning she was looking pale
and q little worn after her two sleepless
nights. The Major. however, seemed
to have succeeded in throwing off his
grief In quite a wonderful manner, and
was In almost his usual spirits.
"Haye you heard how MIR. Browne
is this morning?" Maude ventured to
ask the l~andlady's daughter.
"Why Miss, he paid up for the week
and went off by the mall train last
night, declaring he was sure the place
didn't suit him.
Poor Maudel The blow did indeed
fall on her with crushing force.
NDear me, rather suddenl We shall
miss the old gentleman-eh. Miss
Maude?" said the Major, as soon as
the uncle and niece were left together.
He laid a slight stress on the adjective.
and was a suspicion OF fun in his eyes
1t was, however, no laughing matter
to Maude; she, poor girl, unable longer
to act her paIt, burst into an uncon-
trollable fit of weeping.
Poor child, poor childV' said the
Major, compassionately; sits a sharp
lesson for you to learn. But 1t Is bet
ter for you to bear a little pain now
than to suffer for the remainder OF your
life. as would most probably have been
your fate If l had not paid that scoun.
drel CUT in his own coin."
The threatened loss OF fortune was
all a fabrication, Major Henderson
having gone no neare TO London than
A. 49,. r0oro IN HapaVQunklQ COftana